Note to a Certain Someone

I have so much to say. Where should I start?

I guess I'll start at the start of it all.

There are a few things I'd like a certain someone to know about myself. This blog as a whole should serve as more of a gateway to the whispers of my soul, because it whispers and rarely shouts. 
From the perspective of a sophomore in high school:
I usually don't say what I'd like to. I'm very fond of my friend Tej, both fond and curious about him, but I usually don't say what I'd like because I can't. My thoughts don't translate into words as quickly as I need them to, and I'm tired of sounding like an idiot all the time, so I'm about ready to stop. But that isn't me. I have so much to say, I literally rant essays and form prose while I wallow in my silence in class.
I'm unsatisfied with who I am. My tone is too sarcastic from spending only two years with the public-school population. It's exhausting. Most "big 5" personality tests rank me as 40-50% Extrovert. I always do my best to be friendly and agreeable, but somtimes I become so overwhelmed with my own awkwardness and society's petty wills that I have to get away from it all. I enjoy soaking up the silence of my bedroom. Sometimes music helps, but only soothing instrumentals or tracks from SoundOfTheAviators. Maybe that's why I'm so drawn to him. Tej seems to have a quiet soul like my own: one that whispers and rarely shouts. I'm naturally curious about what goes on inside his head. What's he thinking right now? What does he believe about this or that? What is life like through his eyes? I wish I knew.

I wish I knew what his favorite color was, or what he would do with one million dollars. Believe it or not, one can tell a lot about a person based on their answers.

If Tej ever read this, I'd like him to know I'm really not as lazy as I seem. Since he's so driven with his studies and passions, it's hard for me to measure up. I almost feel upstaged by that note. Honestly, I do work hard with what I commit to, but some days my motivation flies off to help someone else, leaving me in a heap of worthlessness. It's an awful feeling.
Another thing is the societal expectations surrounding us all. You're always so stolid about your work that sometimes I wonder if you really enjoy it. Society's pressure seems to have forced your squareness into one pentagon mold, but left my triangular form with nowhere to go. To this day, I have found no one place I'd like to stay. I'm too emotional to be a vetrenarian, too blood-shy to be a doctor, too discontented to be an actuarian, too rebellious to be a physicist, too adventurous to be a programmer, and too creative to be a dog of the military. I don't know what to do. If I could do anything I wanted, I'd be a quaint missionary, artist, and poet, but then I wouldn't eat. I suppose I could be those things as a wife, but then my husband would be confined to the labors of life for my own sake. I don't even think I'm cut out to be a mother. I've already proven myself to be a decent mentor, cook, and housekeeper, but mothering is five jobs in one.
If I wasn't so anti-communist, I'd say "they should have a test for these kinds of delimas!"

Augh, I hate the world..